The Life Story Of Beetee Latier
by USANAguy
Summary: The untold story of the famous District 3 Victor's Games. - Brilliant super-brain Beetee of District 3 has a job to do to save the life of a close family member, and he's willing to mercilessly kill 23 children to get the money to do it in the 35th Hunger Games.
1. Chapter 1

The Life Story Of Beetee Latier

**Author's note: At the polite request one of my readers, who goes by username - gaptasticventure, I have decided to write a story about Beetee's Games. Once I got my imagination into it, it turned out to be kind of fun for me. Hope you like what my imagination has popped out. **

**I have decided that in this version President Snow is not President yet, and that Caesar Flickerman is in his mid 60's during Katniss's Games. Enjoy.**

Chapter 1:

Life in District 3 -

Beetee Latier was a 12 year old boy. He lived in an industrialized city in the country of Panem, by the name of District 3. Every student at the schools in District 3 were to go to school in the morning and then in the afternoon get hands-on experience in the 'Tech Factories' where any and all different kinds of machinery were manufactured by a combination of assembly-lines on conveyer-belts and the manual physical labor of human hands.

At school they where taught advanced mathematics and the workings of the machines they would have to build when they work in the factories. The adults usually worked for 12 hours a day, 6 days a week until they couldn't work anymore. Sometimes the people were made to work 7 days a week. Pay at the Tech-Factories was minimum wage, and the cheapest food was so expensive, except for the wealthy Merchant-Class that ran the businesses in the market that didn't need to slave in the Tech-Factories, and even they had to make material sacrifices. Chronic hunger was the entire population's companion and an unwelcome companion it was.

Laws written by the evil and sadistic Head Peacekeeper were strict. People were dragged into the main public square to be tied to a post and plead guilty to small and mediocre crimes, and then everyone would be forced to watch while the Head Peacekeeper would put a bullet through the accused's forehead, or if they were lucky, a whipping of 30 lashes or more.

* * *

Beetee's gifts -

Most of the school students were bright thanks to the educational curriculum, but Beetee was uniquely gifted. He had a photographic-memory; all he needed to do was glance at the page in a science text book and he would absorb all of the scientific information on the page and never forget it, ever. He had very good delicate finger control offering him a remarkable ability to put together any kind of delicate sophisticated device with any spare parts or scrap-metal he could find. He had the ability to think up unorthodox scientific ideas and then after some number crunching in his head he knew the theory was right. Then after some more hard thinking he could then think of exactly how to build an advanced sophisticated machine that could do something based on the theory. By the time he was 5 years old he was a master physicist, master computer programmer, master mechanical technician, master engineer, master electrician, and an expert on all sciences. His only problem was that he was farsighted; he could read the tiniest print from across a large room but anything right up close, he needed to squint. And his family couldn't afford to get him glasses. The optometrist in the market was actually the most generous compared to all the others, but even for his low prices, they couldn't afford to pay the lump sum.

* * *

Beetee's family -

He lived with his mother, father, and two little sisters. Elizabeth (35), Donathan (35), Mily (8), and Lori (4). He had cousins and friends as well. He and his family all had skin that was a slight olive-tone brown. He always looked out for his little sisters. He often went without food for longer periods by sacrificing his own meager share of food for his sisters, though he did everything he could to get his hands on extra food. Scrap metal was easy to get his hands on, as well as crude tools for working with, and he would build crude, but remarkably useful and effective contraptions that his family could either use or sell cheap to whoever could afford it.

They lived in a small house. He shared a small bedroom with his sisters. They had a small backyard with a garden, and a crude makeshift shed that was made out of unused discarded materials. Inside the shed was some storage that Beetee's parents allowed him to work on his gadgets, that they would either use or sell. They had a small bathroom with a sink that only had cool tepid water, and a toilet. No bathtub or shower. When they got too dirty they could give themselves a sponge bath over the sink.

* * *

**Television Commercial seen on TV in the Capitol:**

"You've heard him on the radio for years!" said a dramatic background voice interspersed with one-second clips. "He has appeared on countless TV interviews! He has bedazzled people in the audience with his wit and conversational and philosophical intellect! And now you can see him every single day on his very own Talk Show! He will have celebrity guests! Hunger Games Victors! District citizens! Common people with thoughts, to talk about their boring lives, and he will make their boring lives seem exciting! He will report the news! Musical guests! And comedy segments! The Pilot episode of 'The Caesar Flickerman Show', Premiering tomorrow night!"

* * *

The next day.

The audience in the studio is seen on the TV.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 'Caesar Flickerman Show'!" said the announcer excitedly.

The crowd cheered and applauded.

"And here is your host slash star of the show, CAESARRR FLICKERMAAAAAN!"

The curtains lining the back of the stage parted as the remarkably handsome 18 year old TV Star walked onto the stage smiling.

"Thank you!" said Caesar welcomingly. "Thank you, thank you thank you! And welcome to my show!"

Everyone in the audience screamed at the top of their lungs while they applauded. Caesar paced back and forth as he waited for the audience to die down. He then was crying.

"These are tears of joy because you all love me so much." he said with tenderness.

He told a few jokes, had a few guests. And then the 30 minute time slot on prime time was almost up.

"Now, it's almost time to wrap things up." said Caesar. "But now I will tell you that I have been asked by our very own President Abraham Carson, until further notice every year from now, to host the Hunger Games!"

The audience cheered and applauded.

"I look forward to seeing you all there! I'll see you all tomorrow! Thank you for coming out tonight! Good night everybody!"

* * *

**District 3:**

It was the middle of July. And it was the day of 'The Reaping' to decide who would be the child representatives and participants for District 3 in the '29th Annual Hunger Games'. On the stage in front of the Justice Building there was the mayor, the District 3 escort from the Capitol, Nelly Electra, and District 3's only two Victors of the Hunger Games, 37 year old Neil Osmo who won the 10th Hunger Games at age eighteen 19 years earlier, 25 year old Sora Petford who won the 21st Hunger Games at age seventeen 8 years earlier. Both victors are smart and brilliant.

Neil Osmo is six and a half feet tall and heavily muscled. Beetee observed in the Hunger Games each year that either brains or brawn individually were formidable and that person would most likely win, but since Neil Osmo had both, he had pretty much clenched the Games that year, he scored an 11 in training with the Gamemakers, and during the Games didn't disappoint.

Sora Petford won her Games by thinking like her enemy, hiding and evading the whole Games, setting traps, and luring her fellow tributes into them.

The mayor read the Treaty of Treason, and then got down to business.

Nelly Electra stepped forward. She had long glistening green hair, and was wearing elbow length green gloves, a poofy green dress and knee high green high heels, all in the abnormal fashions of the Capitol.

"Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" she said excitedly in her strange Capitol accent. "Ladies first."

She then walked over to the girls bowl and reached to the bottom, stirred up the pieces of paper and pulled out one at random. She walked back to the microphone and unfolded the piece of paper.

"Noria Sanders." said Nelly Electra.

Everyone looked in the direction of the 14 year olds. A short and shy girl with blond hair walked to the stage looking petrified.

"Are there any volunteers?" asked Nelly Electra.

There was no response.

She then walked over to the boys bowl. Dug her hand to the bottom and pulled one out. Beetee hoped it wasn't him, for he had his name in the bowl 6 times right now because he signed up for Tesserae on his 12th birthday. One slip of paper went into the bowl because it had to, and then an additional slip of paper for every member of his family including himself and he got a year's supply of grain and oil for each of them, though it still needed to be carefully rationed. And Beetee calculated in his head in an instant that with tens of thousands of slips of paper in the bowl it would be highly improbable that he would be picked.

And Beetee's calculations did not disappoint, for after Nelly Electra unfolded the paper she said.

"Joseph Harter."

And that was it. That was the horror. Beetee had survived his first reaping.

But the horror had only just begun, as the Capitol made the the people watch the Games.

At the Tributes Parade on television the next day, Noria Sanders and Joseph Harter were wearing long robes covered in useful gadgets.

Three days later, after their private sessions with the Gamemakers, they each scored a 5.

Two days after that, they presented themselves well in their TV interviews with the new young and famous Talk Show Host Caesar Flickerman that they both were bright, clever, and knowledgeable.

The next day they both survived the blood bath at the cornucopia after the gong sounded and got away with a backpack each, but did not ally with each other. 11 people died at that blood bath, but interestingly the boy from District 2 did not survive, for by mere luck the girl from District 6 got a knife and stabbed him through the heart in the back. With a rope and some clever knots tied, Joseph Harter made a trap right in the path of the girl from District 4 who was hunting him. And when she sprung the trap she was then hanging upside down from a tree and she dropped her knife. Joseph capitalized on it, and hunted her back by running up to her, grabbing up her fallen knife and slitting her throat. Score one point for brains. He died the next day in a Gamemaker's earthquake. Noria Sanders was killed during the top seven by the girl from District 1. The career pack turned on each other then because the competition got tight. In the end the girl from District 2 won that year.

And that went on for six more years.

* * *

Beetee had his name in the reaping bowl 12 times when he was 13. Then 18 times when he was 14. Then 24 times when he was 15. Then 30 times when he was 16. Then 36 times when he was 17. And his name was never drawn.

* * *

When he turned 16, his sister Mily was 12 and signed up for Teserea, so the whole family got twice as much grain and oil. After he turned 17 though, something happened. His sister Mily became emaciated and her bones began to show through. Beetee did some research, and found out that Mily had a genetic deficiency disease. There was a cure, but the cure was only available in the Capitol. The only other thing was a constant regular diet of high protein and potent Health Vitamins that could in theory counteract the effects of the disease. Of course they couldn't afford it, and she died shortly after Beetee turned 18.

He later found out that that Lori had the same disease. And he blamed the Capitol for this. This disease could be helped in the Capitol but they just make slaves of the people and don't care.

He looked at his sickly 10 year old sister with determination.

"Lori." said Beetee. "I will save you! I promise that I will make sure you never go hunger again! If it is within my power I will do it, or die trying!"

His vow was absolute. Unbreakable.

'I am going to win the Hunger Games!' he thought to himself.

* * *

It was the month of June. The reaping was in 23 days. He had to prepare. He then set to work. He took a pen and paper and made notes. With his photographic memory he conjured up his every recollection of every Hunger Games he ever watched. He mapped out in his mind all of the arenas he had seen and anticipated every trap and trick the Gamemakers ever used. The Careers will be strong and trained to kill. But they could be avoided easily enough and a smart person could subtly manipulate them. A few days before the Reaping, he had every possible contingency worked out. The Gamemakers believed they were a step ahead of him, he knew they were wrong because he was twenty steps ahead of them.

The day of the Reaping came for the '35th Hunger Games'. Neil Osmo and Sora Petford sat beside the mayor after he read the treaty of treason, and Nelly Electra walked up to the microphone. Her fashion style was going for a rainbow theme from head to toe.

"Happy Hunger Games!" said Nelly excitedly. "And may the odds be ever in your favor! As usual, ladies first."

She walked over to the girls bowl and took a slip of paper off the top. She walked back to the microphone and read it.

"Barbie Nettel." said Nelly.

A 16 year old girl with dark brown skin walked up to the stage. She exuded disappointment at being picked, but confidence that she would come home. Beetee knew her from school. They weren't friends, but he observed her from a distance sometimes. She was a strait A student, a science major, and whenever she was being harassed by a Peacekeeper she always showed no fear.

"Are there any volunteers?" asked Nelly.

No response.

"And our male tribute is," she grabbed a slip and read it, "Victor Tabbill."

A skinny boy of 13, walked up to the stage with a look of dread on his face.

Beetee took in a deep breath and then let it out.

'This is it!' thought Beetee. 'Moment of truth! I survived six Reapings, and now I'm doing it on purpose? Wait for her to ask the question.'

"Are there any volunteers?" Nelly said without feeling, her tone of voice just indicating protocol.

"Me." said Beetee loud enough for everyone to hear. "I volunteer as tribute."

Nelly Electra was stunned, and her professionalism faltered. Beetee was not surprised that she was surprised, as in the 35 years since the 1st Hunger Games, District 3 has never had a single volunteer. Volunteers were common for both the girl and boy in District 2 every year. In Districts 1 and 4 they usually got one almost every year. In the other Districts volunteers were rare but not entirely unheard of.

"Are you serious?" she said with both confusion and surprise.

Beetee didn't respond as he came up on stage and politely waved Victor Tabbill off the stage. Nelly Electra quickly regained her composure.

"Well, this definitely makes things more interesting." said Nelly excitedly. "What is your name?"

"Beetee Latier." said Beetee.

"Then let us have a big round of applause for this year's male tribute and District 3's very first volunteer, Beetee Latier."

Half of the people did not clap, and the other half that did clap did it only half-heartedly without enthusiasm.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor." she said one more time.

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	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

**Author's Note: I could have don't better with this chapter, but I've been having writes block. Enjoy.**

** Beetee's point of view:**

We were led into the Justice Building where we would be put under guard while family and friends could say goodbye.

The room I was in was very clean and plush. The only place I've seen cleaner is the assembly line laboratory where we make computer chips (the lab has to stay dust free).

My family then entered the room.

"You got 5 minutes!" said the Peacekeeper in a firm voice.

Lori ran into my arms with tears in her eyes. My mother also had tears. My father has always been one to put on a tough-guy act though, and no tears were in his eyes. He also had an air of irritation and disappointment. He was the first to speak.

"I've never been able to figure you out son, and never questioned the unusual things that your brain comes up with. But after six years of surviving six Reapings, I must ask now... ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FREAKING MIND!?" he screamed the last part with sadness.

"We just lost your sister!" my mother cried. "And now we are going to lose you too, and for something you could have avoided!"

It was time for them to know.

"I'm doing this for Lori." I told them matter-of-factly. "With the Hunger Games winnings I'm going to make sure my sister never goes hungry again." I said with determination.

"And you just up and decided one morning, 'I'm going to win the Hunger Games today'." my dad said with exaggerated sarcasm, as though to emphasize the ridiculousness of the idea.

"Dad." I started, trying to make him understand. "You've seen me. Any time I've put my mind to something I've always figured it out. And now I have done the calculations, the Hunger Games is no different. It's all in the numbers. It's all about using your brain to bend the odds in your favor. I've been working on it for a month, watching the Hunger Games reruns on TV, memorizing the moves of the Career Tributes, mapped out the arenas, I have calculated and re-calculated and completely worked out every possible contingency and scenario."

I paused and waited for their response.

"And if the Gamemakers decide to kill you themselves there will be nothing you can do." my father argued.

"Dad, this is my choice." I said. And then my stoic calm broke as I got angry. "I watched Mily die, and there was nothing I could do about it! Now Lori will die, unless we get a lot of money now! And I will win the Hunger Games by bending the odds in my favor, with this!" I said the last part by touching my finger to my temple. "And I love Lori so much that I would rather die now myself trying if I fail!"

My father still looked angry and disappointed towards me.

"The cost of winning is not worth it." said Dad.

"I know the price of doing nothing! Lori's death! And I do know the cost of winning, yes." I said with determination. "And, just so that there is no confusion on my limits and what I'm capable of; I'm selfish enough that I've always looked out for my own, and I'm willing and prepared to kill 23 other District kids, including Barbie Nettel, if it saves Lori's life!"

They all looked at me with mixed emotions. Lori then kissed me on the cheek.

"I would do the same for you." she said gratefully.

"I would never ask that of you." I said to her. And then directed it to all of them. "And I know neither would any of you ask this of me. Which is why I kept it a secret and didn't tell you. I knew you would try to stop me or talk me out of it or something."

"Ok, I understand. Make no mistake about that. But, I care about you to much to watch you do this to yourself." said my dad disappointed. "So I cannot condone this."

My mom and sister said goodbye and wished me good luck.

"I will win the Hunger Games on Lori's life, dad!" I said with determination. "When I return, and I will, think better of me." I requested.

The door was opened by the Peacekeeper.

"Time!" he said stating the one word obvious.

My family was taken out of the room. I pecked my mother and sister on the cheek quickly and then they were gone.

A few moments later a group of my friends from school came in.

"You have 5 minutes!" said the Peacekeeper.

One of them, my friend McKnight, grabbed my shoulders and shook me affectionately with an amused smile on his face.

"You have a plan, don't you?" he said speculatively. "You really think you're going to win!" he said in a voice of being convinced.

I smiled back.

"Yeah, I have a plan. I'm going to manipulate the arena during the Games the way I count cards by doing the math in my head while we play poker." I told them cryptically.

They all offered me encouragement and requested a small percentile of my winnings when I get back.

I then whispered in their ears, "Take care of my sister, should I not return."

They gave me their word and the Peacekeepers ushered them out.

Next came Victor Tabbill. He paused, trying to decided to say something. His emotions were hard to read. I had pretty much just saved his life. Was he grateful? He seemed almost angry, but it couldn't be that, that wouldn't make sense. He then swung his open hand at my face.

Though I am 99% brains, I do possess some physical advantages over others. Not strength, no. My photographic memory's attention to detail with my five senses in combination with my brain's super fast thinking gave me good reflexes in the form of 'quick-reaction-time', as well as good 'hand-eye-coordination'.

My reaction-time saw what he was doing and I grabbed Victor Tabbill's wrist a fraction of a second before he hit me.

"What was that for?" I calmly asked diplomatically.

"You volunteered for me when I was reaped!" he said irritated.

"I'm guessing you wanted to go into the arena and I spoiled it for you?" I said, half sarcasm half question.

"No you idiot!" said Victor Tabbill. "It's the debt! How am I supposed repay you? I'm mad at you because I will never be able to repay you for this!"

"Usually, when one's life is saved they are a little more grateful." I reprimanded. "But for what it's worth, I didn't do it for you. I'm going into the Games so I can save my sister."

Victor Tabbill frowned with concern.

"What's wrong with Lori?" asked Victor Tabbill.

"She's dieing!" I told him.

"What!" Victor said with shock and concern.

"I didn't do it for you. I did what I did because I need the Hunger Games winnings or else she will die." I said. "For what it's worth, as the person you owe the debt to, I relieve you of the debt. You owe me nothing."

"Ok, I'm sorry." said Victor, repentant. "But even if you tell me there is no debt, still, there must be something you can do."

Beetee considered for a moment.

"Take care of my sister should I not return." I said.

"I'll do that." Victor Tabbill promised.

I smiled and nodded in approval.

Victor Tabbill left the room.

For a moment, which I assumed would come and go up until I win, my resolve faltered. I began to wonder to myself, 'Beetee, what have you gotten yourself into?' But I thought of Lori, and my determination to save her, and the fact that Hunger Games winnings was the only solution. A considered every other solution and they wouldn't work.

The Peacekeepers escorted myself and Barbie Nettel to a limousine outside of the Justice Building and we were driven to the train station. Cameras flashed in our faces as we mounted the steps onto the train.

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	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

**Beetee's point of view:**

From District 3 to the Capitol, would be approximately 7 hours at the train's speed.

According to the rules, besides the fact that we are prisoners, the Hunger Games Tributes get to live the high life up to the start of the Games, and the rule did not disappoint. Inside the train it was shiny, flashy, and luxurious. We each got our own compartment. In my compartment was a king sized bed, a shower with hot water, a jetted bath tub, and a closet full of fancy clothes. I changed into something cleaner, as my current clothes were not in the best of shape.

Nelly Electra came into the room and said it was time to watch the replays of the Reapings in the other Districts. I agreed. I needed to see what my competition is.

We went to the dinning room, where they had a feast for us with just about anything you'd ever want to eat. I took what I believed to be a cinnamon bun covered in sugary frosting and bit into it. It was by far the most delicious thing I had ever tasted. I filled my plate with choice items from the buffet. I needed to gain a little weight before I get into the arena.

Neil Osmo, Sora Petford, Barbie Nettel, and Nelly Electra sat at the table with me. Neil Osmo seemed to keep downing a large amount of wine but seemed to not be drunk, he obviously has a strong constitution and very high tolerance level for alcohol before becoming intoxicated. He had no reputation as a drunkard.

We watched the television as the other Reapings were being replayed.

From District 1, the boy and girl two 16 year-olds who were both reaped. Their names were Rubius Morson and Aurora Indi. There were no volunteers. But they both still looked strong, physically fit, and confident.

From District 2, a young girl was reaped, but was then quickly replaced by a hard-faced mean looking girl from the 17 year-olds who volunteered, who went by the name of Xena Forman. Then from the boys, a 12 year boy was reaped, then when the escort asked for volunteers there were 9 tall and heavily muscled boys from the 18 year-olds to the 15 year-olds that all volunteered at once. Apparently anticipating this as it usually happens every year in District 2 (I wonder why District 2 even bothers with the Reaping at all) they then have the most recent victor pick the one they think would be best. They pick a boy named Buzz Vandermon who was the biggest of the 9 volunteers.

There was then the replay of District 3. On the TV screen, Barbie's name was called, then Victor Tabbill. Then I saw myself rushing forward to to take his place. The announcer on the television was quite surprised saying that District 3 had never had a volunteer before, and they wondered why, and considered if I would make the Games more interesting.

From District 4, a 13 year-old was reaped, but was then replaced by a strong, fit, and confident looking volunteer who said her name was Annabel Ivy. Then a strong, fit, and confident 16 year-old named John Green was reaped but no one volunteered for him.

The rest of the districts went by one at a time they all looked scared and vulnerable though there were a few that were physically stronger that stood out but no volunteers.

The announcer then said that the tributes would arrive within less than a day and for everyone to please tune in for the tributes parade tomorrow night, and that if you lived in the Capitol you could even attend the tributes parade in the audience.

Barbie Nettel, then spoke up.

"So when do we start?" asked Barbie. "I assume we are going to need mentoring of course?"

Neil Osmo then became extremely irritated.

"And what exactly would you two need mentoring for?" he directed his question more to Beetee then to Barbie.

"I don't think I quite understand?"

Neil looked at Beetee with anger on his face.

"I have no interest in mentoring an insane person."

"And since when does insanity come into this?" questioned Barbie.

"I do have to admit, I am trying to figure you out. I mean, you volunteered!" he said loudly trying to emphasize the unusualness of the thing. "No one volunteers. What do you think this is? District 2?"

"What does it matter to you what I do?" asked Beetee.

Neil then gave an amused smile which Beetee assumed could have only come from all the alcohol that he just downed.

"If you volunteer to go into the arena which pretty much for ensures your death, then you either need to be really stupid with a deathwish, or you're just plain out of your mind."

"Maybe he's just really brave?" said Sora Petford.

"Volunteering for the Hunger Games is not bravery, its recklessness. A brave person does not go looking for trouble. And I want nothing to do with mentoring him."

"I will be his mentor then." said Sora Petford.

Neil raised his eyebrow in interest.

"Fine." said Neil, "You take the boy, I will take the girl."

Sora led me to a table there in the dinning room at the far side of the car.

"So, tell me, why did you volunteer?" asked Sora.

Rather than answer her question, I decide to ask her out-right.

"Is he always like that?" I asked gesturing to Neil.

Sora looked over at Neil who was bent over a table leaning in close to Barbie.

"Don't take it personally, I don't think he actually thinks you're insane. He is just depressed."

"Depressed?" I asked out of curiosity. "About what?"

Sora pauses to think about it for a while.

"There are several contributing factors." explains Sora. "He's been at this mentoring thing a lot longer than I have. He's a brilliant scientist, and by some gland disorder he has an excess of strength. But all that adds up to nothing not even winning the Games. Until me, he had to endure a lot of tributes that he mentored dying, and now he wishes that he could drown his pain and sorrow way with alcohol... as you've probably seen he tries. But not even alcohol can make him forget his troubles because a side effect of his strength is apparently a 99% resistance to intoxication. Also his entire family died mysteriously two months after he won his Games."

'What? I was unaware of that?' I thought to myself.

The look on my face must have indicated that I understood as she responded.

"Now I must ask you again." said Sora. "Why did you volunteer?"

"My sister Lori. She's dying." I stated matter-of-factly. "She has a degenerative deficiency disease. Her body can't absorb enough of the nutrients in what little food that my family can get a hold of. Scientifically speaking her body is digesting itself from the inside out and she will eventually die of protein deficiency. The only way to save her is for her to have a diet of excessive consumption of protein meat in order to counteract the effects of the disease. And the only way for me to get the money to be able to do that is to win the Hunger Games."

Sora raised her eyes in interest.

"That's very noble and brave of you." said Sora. "But it's a longshot at best. What makes you think that you can win the Hunger Games?"

"I think that the odds are in my favor." I told her.

"How so?" she asked.

"It's all in the numbers, and the manipulation of the statistics. With my friends I win it all the games, I've rarely lost a game of poker, and I've never lost a game of chess."

The look on her face indicated that she was impressed, but she also had a serious reprimanding look on her face.

"The Hunger Games is not a game, 'contrary to the event's name'. The Hunger Games is not something that you can practice until you're sure that you can get it right every time. The Games are different every time, the arena, the landscape, the environment, the tools that you will have to work with. When you go into the Games, you have no idea what you have in front of you, and you then have one chance to get it right the first time. And then every decision you make is life or death. You got to get your hands on a weapon, preferably something long and sharp. You got to aim for the heart, or the neck, or the head every time, even if it's your district partner."

She paused after she said the last sentence I could tell the look of horror was flooding into her mind's eye as she stared over my shoulder at the wall at some dark memory.

"You may be able to take on can ally or two, but be wary, they are in the same position as you. They know they will die if they don't win and you need to think like them, they die or you don't win, it would not be wise to have it come down to you and your ally, and you can't always trust them to die at someone else's hands." her tone of voice indicated determination and seriousness that this was not a laughing matter. "When that gong sounds, and you go up against 23 opponents that are determined to win, YOU HAVE TO BE FULLY PREPARED TO KILL! You can't hesitate to hit a Career Tribute 'while he's down', or even slit the throat of a twelve year old girl, though there a hundred different ways to kill them much faster and less painfully. Just so you know, I did not win the Hunger Games because I was nice. All of that; that is what you must do. That is what you must become. That is the price you must pay to save your sister."

"I am well aware of what is at stake and what I have to do." I told her. "I am willing to kill Barbie Nettel as well as all of the other tributes if it means that I can save my sister. I thought of other options, and there are none. The Hunger Games winnings are my only chance. No tribute is more determined to win than I am right now."

My tone of voice had a note of finality in it.

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	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

**Beetee's point of view:**

Sora Petford decided to reserve judgement and not question my resolve.

She asked me what I can do. I told her the gist of my skills. She seemed impressed. She asked for a demonstration. I showed her my hand-eye coordination, I found that throwing knives was easy. I demonstrated my photographic memory and fast math and science skills. I told her I had worked out every variable and contingency of the Gamemakers for weeks.

She said I had a good chance of winning. She then told me to get some sleep before we get to the Capitol.

* * *

We arrived at the train station and there was quite a crowd. The people were eager to see the tributes. They smiled and waved at us. They cheered as we exited the train. The people were so strange and bizarre in their fashion styles; I saw one woman who was completely bald with the most unusual outfit. One man wore very feminine clothing while he had dyed his hair bright green. And the list went on. I gave a friendly nod in the crowd's general direction.

Barbie and I were taken to what they referred to as 'The Remake Center', where I was met with my stylist and prep team. I was asked to to remove all of my clothing, and then the prep team gave me a full makeover. I thought it wasn't entirely that bad, I got hosed down with warm water where they scrubbed every nook and cranny of my body, including covering my face with a depilatory cream that seeped into my skin that temporarily destroys the roots in the hair-follicles so that my facial hair won't grow back for over another month. The remake of me took several hours. I had to admit that I felt clean and refreshed after it was all done.

I was given a bath-robe and taken into another room where my stylist was waiting. It was a woman with pale white skin, rainbow colored hair in a big poofy afro, wearing high heeled shoes, black hoop earrings, and a very revealing two-piece orange leotard that showed off most of her body. An unusual feature was that a long thin patch of skin up and down both her arms, shoulders, the side of her neck, sides of her head around her ears, and down the sides of her body and legs seem to be glistening in an odd sort of pattern like fish scales. I have never been a fan of the aesthetic choices of the Capitol but in spite of her bizarre hair I couldn't help but get an erection under my robe at the site of her in high heels and revealing leotard in contrast to her white skin, and even the fish scales on the sides of her body and arms added an almost hidden and mysterious eroticism. She stepped forward and extended her hand and I shook it. She spoke in a feminine, but deep mystical voice.

"Welcome Beetee. My name is Myra Holmes, I am your stylist. And I hope to be able to be of service to you in your victory over your twenty-three opponents in the Games."

It seemed hard to take her seriously, but she seems sincere.

"Thank you. I will appreciate any help that you can give me." I told her.

"So," she says as she scrutinized me, "I have an idea for what to dress you in for the tribute parade."

I wasn't sure whether or not I had been dreading this part, because at the tribute parade we're supposed to wear the figurative colors of the district that we represent. In District 3 we manufacture tech items, so we usually have some kind of costume that represent electronics of some sort.

"Now what we want," said Myra, "is to dress you in something that your sponsors will want to favor you for."

"So I assume you're not going to dress me up as a satellite dish or Christmas tree lights?" I said to her.

"No." said Myra, "You need to stand out."

She then detached from a strong secure clip on her wrist-watch a small handheld computer that was little bigger than a cell phone.

"I assume that you know what this is?" asked Myra as she showed me the device.

I was fully familiar with the device; we mass-manufacture them in the factory in District 3 where I help out in, I had even worked in the computer-lab there at the factory and assisted in the upgrades to the digital code programming of the devices hard drives.

"These devices are one of the most popular things in the Capitol. And I am going to dress you up in a costume as one of these."

That seemed silly and ridiculous, but then children in costumes usually are, so I decided to just smile and nod and get it over with. Personally, right now I was simply in a hurry to get into the arena so that I can win the prize money and help my sister.

* * *

It was later that evening. Myself, Barbie, and all of the other tributes from the other districts were there in their outfits that would represent their districts decorative colors.

I was wearing a rather over elaborate and very bulky mascot costume that looks like a giant handheld computer. Rather unimaginative if you ask me but then most of the costumes of the tributes are. Barbie was dressed up as a satellite dish in Christmas lights, the same thing that our District 3 girl wore last year, and the year before, and the year before that. We got onto our chariot and then the district 1 chariot began to move off.

We all did our parts of smiling and waving to the crowd as our chariots were pulled by the trained horses down the street of the Capitol for the 20 minute chariot ride. When we came out of the remake center and the people saw me, they all called to me to get my attention as they waved their little handheld computers up in the air to show me that they had what I was dressed up as while the people cheered and waved at me. I could tell that these people we're not like the evil corrupt political leaders of their city; they were rather naive, semi-uneducated, and semi-ignorant of what the horrible living conditions in the districts really are. The way human psychology works is that to these people, we the tributes from the districts, bring them blood and death on television, and they love us for it. Right now in this moment, as they look at me in my silly 'handheld computer' mascot costume, they love me, they adore me, and I am a celebrity to them. I wonder? If I am to win the Games, the influence I will have over these people; maybe I can make a difference on a much larger scale? But I can't think about that right now, I'm here for the prize money to save my sister. I can influence the thinking of the people of the Capitol if I win.

We pulled up alongside the President Carson's Mansion. Then President Abraham Carson addressed us.

"Tributes of the Hunger Games! It is an honor, a pleasure, and privilege to have you here in the Capitol with us today! We honor you, and salute you, for your courage, and your sacrifice! You are an inspiration to us all! You are everything that we want to be, you are strong, fast, smart, and brave! And we wish you, Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor! Go out there and win, and eternal glory and wealth will forever be yours!"

The crowd exploded with cheers and applause at President Carson's last sentence.

The District 12 chariot moves off along side us towards the stables at the training center, they were two 15 year-olds wearing plain coal miners outfits. The girl was a little skinny, while the boy was tall and broad. I remember from the replays of the reaping that their names were Peter Wolofon, and Macy Keen. District 12 never wins the Games, they never get sponsors, their training scores are usually the lowest, those who might be their fans never take them seriously, and they were still mentored by their escort. Back when the Hunger Games first began, before the Districts had any Victors, the tributes were mentored by their Capitol escorts, but the escorts didn't know the first thing about killing or survival. Other than Districts 1, 2, and 4, most Districts have only one Victor, while District 12 has none, we of District 3 are fortunate to have two.

The horses pulled all of our chariots into the stables at the training center where our stylists, escorts, and mentors were waiting for us.

"That was perfect!" said Myra excitedly in her deep mystical voice. "They loved it!"

"It was an impressive approach." said Nelly Electra with a tone of approval.

We were taken to the elevator where we were then taken to the third floor. I couldn't help but notice that the main lobby was full of Peacekeepers, most likely to keep the tributes from running away.

In the third story living quarters, it was a fine place. It was finely decorated, lots of furniture, and there were what appeared to be servants to cater to our every whim. Though they did not speak. I went to the room I was told would be my own. We were told that all we needed to do was ask the silent servants to do something for us and that they would be pleased to do it.

Nelly Electra told us to feel free to change into something more comfortable, (not that I want to stay in this big mascot costume much longer,) and then come to the dining room for dinner as well as the replay of the parade.

The dinner was over-extravagant. They must have had at least 50 different choices of different food items. Much of the food was strange but tasted magnificent. I did not need to ask what would be done with the food that was not eaten; it would get thrown out. I was appalled at the fact; 'I could feed my family with all the thrown out food for months!' I thought indignantly.

We watched the replay of the parade and some of the tributes did look nice in their costumes. If you ask me, me and Barbie look ridiculous, but for some reason the 'figurative mob' loved us for it. But soon it was over, and now I could focus on the Games as I knew that training with start the next day.

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	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

**Author's note: I am enjoying writing this fanfic, however I feel that I should say now that it is going to be very generic. If many of you readers hate this fact then I apologize but it is what's my imagination has been coming up with for this story and I politely ask you to bare with it. I will continue to keep writing chapters. Thank you for understanding. Enjoy.**

I woke up in the morning. I looked around. I knew it was time to get ready for the day. My stylist Myra Holmes came in with a small garment bag on her arm. I was taken by surprise when I saw her; other than the fabric head band, waist band, wrist-cuffs, ankle-cuffs, and a few other adornments, she was completely naked. I will never understand the fashion styles of the Capitol.

"What is with your choice of attire?" I couldn't help but ask, while out of respect for her I tried to focus on her face.

"I am a naturist by lifestyle, I don't wear clothing if I can help it, and with the many ever-changing fashion styles here in the Capitol there are no indecent exposure laws." she explained in her deep mystical voice.

I was fascinated, and intrigued, but I had to ask.

"As a stylist... you are a clothing designer?" I said skeptically, "But yet in general, you don't wear clothing?" I emphasized the contradiction.

"I take a great deal of pride in designing clothes as my own personal form of artistic expression." explained Myra. "And I feel a sense of pleasure and satisfaction to dress people up in them and make them look nice in them. But for my choice of lifestyle I feel no interest in wearing my own designs myself." she explained logically.

I decided not to argue as at the sight of her whole bare body with the prominent fish scales up and down her sides. The only thing that was missing were gills and fins, and then she could look like an amphibious mermaid with legs. It was an odd sense of romantic interest that I was feeling at that moment as I felt like my blood filled manhood was going to burst out of my pajama bottoms.

But she went on, taking no notice of my body's physical biological interest in her, or at least pretending not to take any notice and acted very professional, she went on without delay tossing the garment bag on her arm onto the bed.

"You are to wear that for training." she said matter of factly. "It is an athletic outfit of my own design that will offer your body maximum mobility in the gym during training."

She turned and left the room and I got a look at her bare backside and couldn't help but grin at myself.

Breakfast was pleasant. It was serve yourself, though I could have sat at the table and told the Avox servers to bring me a plate filled with my choices, but I didn't bother them, though they did insist on keeping my glass full at all times by topping off the glass everytime I take so much as a tiny little sip.

Sora Petford sat at one side of the table with me and leans in close, while Neil Osmo sat at the other side of the table leaning in close to Barbie.

"So here's what I want you to do?" Sora whispered. "When you are in training, I want you to focus on learning skills that you don't already know. I know you have memorized the theory of most of these skills on paper, but you know better than anyone that memorizing theory on paper is not the same as actually doing the physical skills in real life. Don't show off any skills that you think that your opponent's can use against you. I know how the Careers think; after the gong sounds, the Career Pack will focus on the people that they think are the most threat to them. Let them feel that you are no threat to them. Though try and gain some skills with some weapons, or learn to wrestle. A high training score will help me get you sponsors, but a high training score will also attract the Careers. It's a fine line to walk. Training is all yours now so it's up yo you."

It was a variety of training options, but I'll see what I can do. Me and Barbie were taken to the elevator and Neil and Sora escorted us to the basement. When the doors opened we saw a couple dozen other people, but not all were tributes. About half the tributes were there along with their mentors. I looked at some of the other Victors with fascination, I had seen them on television over the years. During the Games the Victors usually come to the Capitol to either mentor, or for just the event, and every time a Victor comes to the Capitol they always get at least one TV interview. Sora walked over to a young dark-skinned woman, who looked no older than me, to say Hello. I immediately recognized the woman as, Seeder from District 11, who won the Games two years ago. She was a good fighter with a sword, but interestingly, she didn't win by killing her final opponent when she got into the top two, she won by default; the Gamemakers arena twist that year was, 'no food', except what was in the supplies at the Cornucopia at the start. She got away from the Cornucopia Bloodbath with a short sword and a backpack of supplies, she found lots of water and for the entire Games kept herself thoroughly hydrated. Early in the Games a Gamemaker's forest fire destroyed all the supplies, where the Careers starved to death, and Seeder won by being able to go without food for longer than any of the other tributes. This year she was mentoring a 12 year old girl named Caroline Bean.

Neil Osmo walked over to a say hello to two of his middle aged friends who were also Victors that I recognized from annual TV interviews and seeing reruns of their Games during the months of the year that the present Games aren't playing live. One was 40 year-old Mags from District 4 who won the 12th Hunger Games two years after Neil did by managing to make it into the top two by living off of fish with homemade fish-hooks and identifying edible plants, and then stabbing her final opponent in the throat with a knife after luring him into a twitch-up snare made out of a homemade fishing-net. Neil's second friend was 35 year-old Woof from District 8. He was very strong and fast naturally without training and won his Games by simply beating his strongest opponents with shear force.

I was just waiting to begin as the other tributes arrived at the gym.

A man in an athletic outfit walked into the room with some trainers and some armed Peacekeepers.

"Mentors, if you could please exit the room, I would appreciate it." said the man.

The mentors walked out of the room. All twenty-four of the tributes were there.

"Attention tributes! My name is Papadulis. I am your Head Trainer." he began explaining in a serious and firm tone of voice. "You all know why you are here. My job is going be to teach you to defend yourselves against any creature, either human or animal that might attempt to kill you. It will be my job to make sure that you will be able to survive under very difficult conditions. In three weeks from today twenty-three of you will be dead, and one will be alive. If you want to be that one then you better perform well here in my gymnasium. We have survival skills; we will teach you how to identify edible plants, we will teach you how to identify medicinal plants, we will teach you how to identify poisonous plants, we will teach you how to make fire without matches, and other such skills. The trainers will instruct you at every station.

"Physical Training; we have standard exercise equipment where you can simply work out, or we have a complicated obstacle course to test your physical skills.

"Combat training; we will teach you how to use a variety of different handheld weapons, as well as unarmed combat such as wrestling, boxing, and a variety of 'Self-Defense-Disciplines'. While you my practice the survival stations with your fellow tributes, no combative exercise may be performed with another tribute, however, you may feel free to spar with a trainer if you wish.

"You are free to move from station to station 'per your mentors instructions'. Myself, and my fellow trainers will be taking a lunch break at the halfway point, and then I will call it quits for the day shortly before dinner-time. We will repeat the exact same thing tomorrow, and the morning after, where during that afternoon you will have your private sessions with the Gamemakers, who are right over there with clipboards," he pointed to a group of men at the far side of the room, "and will be watching you for today and taking notes. You may begin."

The other tributes spread throughout the room. The Career Tributes picked up weapons of all kinds and handled them with ease, clearly having practiced with them for years. Some of the others went to the survival skills, while the rest picked up weapons but were clearly clumsy with them. I decided to go to the wrestling station where a trainer sparred with me. What's in my line of sight I was capable of seeing every detail okay, every movement of his hands, but he was faster than me he pinned me in seconds. Though I knew the theory I realize that this was not the same as putting together a clever gadget with my hands from a few spare parts. And that physical training in a fight was a lot harder than it looks. I was a quick study but I still found it difficult. I tried boxing and a few of the 'Disciplines', I was slow to learn these. In that moment I did have a newfound appreciation for those who study their entire lives trying to learn these. Fighting is hard. I learn the basics, throwing knives was easy because it was hand eye coordination,which my brain works with, but fighting with a sword was going to be challenging.

I practiced with the unarmed combat until the lunch break where I then sat alone. I filled my plate with a few items and then when lunch was over it was back to training.

I decided to go to the medicinal plants station, which I swept. I tried making fire without matches which I found very challenging.

Sora told me to try to learn what I didn't already know. I found that anything that was strictly academic and intellectual was easy, so best not to waste my time. So I focused on the physical. The obstacle course wasn't too difficult, though I found the long jump and the monkey-bars more of a challenge. By early evening we were dismissed and told to return at the same time tomorrow morning.

Back on our 3rd floor accommodations Sora asked me how things went. I explained that anything academic I found quite easy so I was focusing on the physical as per your instructions to learn what I didn't already know.

She explained that the physical, though was a mental exercise, took more practice and experience than simply memorizing the theory. After dinner I went back to my room. I sat there and I started to think again. My resolve faltered. I had flawlessly hung on to my resolve for so long. I wondered, what have I gotten myself into? I even reminded myself that I chose this because I need the money to save my sister. There are a lot of people in District 3 who have dying family members but they accept it as normal! Normal? ... Normal? ... Why should any of us accept that as normal?! Its not normal! And then turned my eyes to the TV screen. President Abraham Carson was standing at a podium giving some speech to the Capitol citizens about all of the good things that are done for everyone in their fair country. I then felt an unnatural surge of rage go through me as I looked at him. 'Why did you make people suffer?' I silently ask him. How do you sleep at night? This country's population is not the 500 million that it once was. This country's current population is less than one percent of that. Technically speaking, the significantly smaller population is a significant less of a pull on the resources of the earth. This entire continent is a bounty of raw materials. The entire population could easily be sustained. But that would require equal dissemination of the resources, which would require the Capitol to give up it's 'free enterprise system'. I know how human psychology works, the rich want to get richer and make the poor get poorer.

It has been 35 years since the last rebellion of the districts, maybe it's time for the districts to try again?!

But right now in that moment my thoughts turned back to my sister, and she is more important than everyone else. Not technically of course, but she is to me.

'I have to win the Games!' I thought with the utmost determination! I have to; its not that I might or that I could, but I have to! I cannot lose! The cost is too great! The stakes are too high! And how does one ensure their victory? 'You cheat.' I thought evily!

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	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

**Author's note: This chapter is a little generic, I've been having writer's-block and have been unimaginative. Sorry. Enjoy.**

How was I going to cheat? And who cares if I do? The Careers technically aren't supposed to train for the Games beforehand. This is the Hunger Games; there are no rules.

I thought. I think I know how to do it.

I went out into the living room. In the corner of the room there was a small console that allows people to look up information from the digital network database of the Capitol. I knew that there was surveillance in the room, but I knew that there wasn't any directly against the wall from the console, so I sat down and turned the control panel and the screen to the wall so that what I was doing could not be seen. I acted very casual and nonchalant. I opened up the 'Main File Directory' and I began searching for something useful. What I needed was a connection to an outside link.

I began tapping many panels with all of my fingers very quickly in a logical sequence of the code of the computer. For your average expert computer programer this would be difficult, but for me personally this was not too difficult. I found the Capitol's Digital Network search engine, broke through the encryption of several servers, and then found the security system for this building. I went into the training center surveillance and very cleverly covering my tracks while I hacked into the computer system I put the surveillance on a continuous loop so that the surveillance would not know what I was doing.

After another hour of very hard brainwork and computer hacking I managed to tap into the Gamemakers database of their control room for the Hunger Games. I was very careful to let my search of their database go unnoticed. I opened up their file directory and there was the jackpot. I found a map of the arena. The arena this year will be an abandoned ruined city. There are over a hundred abandoned ruined cities scattered across the continent, though the Capitol has little use for them, insufficient resources to rebuild them or fix them up, and insufficient numbers of people to repopulate them. According to the history books that I memorized, the cities were destroyed during the world's population decimation during the last World War 200 years ago.

The Gamemakers database on their new arena said that animals within the city would be limited to birds and small rodents.

Plants within the arena would be limited to ivy-covered buildings, weeds in the cracks of the concrete, and a few parks neglected to the point of overgrowth. The Gamemakers were going to have the ruined buildings have running water, but no electricity. Some muttations of wolves and lions will be released into the arena at certain times by the Gamemakers during their boring moments to make the boring more exciting. As for materials and minerals, the ruined city is a colossal storehouse of abandoned broken junk.

After I had read that last part I was excited. An arena loaded to capacity with abandoned junk; I will be in my element, I will be given the home field advantage. I just might be able to pull this off. I imagined that this would be a significantly less expensive arena to build, as the ruined city has abandoned sewers, subways, and underground parkades that would need only slight modifications for arena catacombs.

With my photographic memory I memorized the map of the arena, all of the Gamemakers preselected features, the location of the cornucopia, Gamemaker's traps, etc. I then closed up my computer-hack with a few more rapid taps of the keys to cover my tracks. The Gamemakers computer security systems would never know that I was there.

* * *

The next morning I was back in training. I focused on the physical. I did that all day.

* * *

Then the next day, we all were at breakfast, Sora was giving me some last minute advice.

"Okay, today is the day that you can show the Gamemakers all your skills that you don't want the other tributes to know. The higher the training score the better the chance I can get you sponsors. Though as I said before, get a low score and you can keep the Career Pack off your back."

"Thanks. I will keep thinking and make my decision by my private session." I told her.

Sora scrutinized me with curiosity.

"Are you nervous?" Sora asked.

"Nope. Just impatient. I'm eager to get into the arena." I said matter of factly.

"You scare me." said Sora seriously. "You are going to win. I'm sure of it."

Her last statement was in a disappointed tone of voice.

"You sound disappointed?" I said, curious of what she was thinking. "Isn't me winning the whole point of you mentoring me?"

She looked at me and paused for a moment before answering as though she was afraid of her next words.

"I think you made a big mistake volunteering." she said.

I frowned in confusion.

"But you just said that you were sure I was going to win?" I said, curious of the contradiction.

"This is not something that we broadcast," said Sora in a serious voice, "but most Hunger Games Victors are not in their right minds again after they win their Games. You see, when you're in the arena and you're face to face with another tribute that wants to live, they know that they got to kill you, and when you take your weapon or your bare hands or whatever method to kill, and you choke them or stab them in the heart...and you watch the life drain out of them in that moment!..." she paused, the look on her face as though she was remembering something horrible. "You are never quite the same. You live with that person's blood on your hands for the rest of your life, and then when you get home... the nightmares start of the memory of what you had to do."

"I think I get what you're saying." I reassured her. "But I can't think about that, I need the prize money for my sister."

"Actually I don't think that you do get it just yet... because I'm not finished!" she said in a firm tone. "The guilt of your fellow tributes blood on your hands, the horrible things you had to witness in the arena, and then the nightmares! And then having to mentor tribute after tribute year after year who are doomed to die in the arena with little to no chance of winning! Once you are given your big mansion in the victors village and are being smothered in money, some tributes say that they may be able to live with that. But there is a price that you must pay for winning!"

She leaned in close to me and whispered very carefully below the audio recording of the surveillance in the room.

"President Carson is evil!" she spoke in a serious grave voice. "He is a psychopath and a sadist! He is prone to violent behavior while being incapable of feeling or remorse! And he hates victors! He hates victors with a passion and a vengeance! I don't know a single Victor that hasn't suffered at his hand simply for winning the Games. Remember when I told you that Neil's family had been killed 2 months after he won his Games. And he's not the only victor who lost their family for winning."

"What about you?" I asked. "Your family is still alive."

"Yes, but I still paid a price." she explained. "President Carson wanted something else from me. He left my family alone but he requested of me... my body."

I widened my eyes in surprise.

"Does that mean what I think it means?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes it does." said Sora with at tone of hopeless resignation. "It means exactly what you think it means."

We looked at each other in contemplation.

"I was not the only one. There are a lot of wealthy men here in the Capitol that think of me as a very attractive woman, and they would go to President Carson and pay him a lot of money for his assistance to arrange a...'private romantic meeting' with myself and themself. And I had to pretend that I liked it and make it convincing. I did it because I knew what the consequences would be if I didn't. But that's not the worst of it, that was not the worst thing that I had to decide. President Carson told me that as punishment for winning the Games he would simply temper the death of someone close to me. Rather than a close family member of mine dying, I could choose a friend or distant acquaintance to die in my family's place."

I was horrified at the idea of it.

"And he told me that if I didn't and if I chose to sacrifice my own life then he would kill all of my friends and my family. The lesser of two evils was for me to pick one mild acquaintance. Don't get me wrong, it was not easy, and I didn't come to the decision lightly, but by one's own point of view their own family is more important than everyone else. So I did it."

She paused and allowed me to take in the full measure of the situation.

"Tell me now Beetee, how many people would you horribly sacrifice in order to save your sister's life?!"

Of course I knew the answer.

"So you understand now Beetee, if you win the Games, President Carson will ask for something from you in return for your victory, and if you don't have something really good to offer him then he will kill your sister himself!"

I was speechless by the facts! I felt stuck now, what was I supposed to do?

"If you are so determined to save your sister then you will think of something. Now, I believe that it is time for training and good luck in your private session."

I spent that morning in training with the rest of the tributes and then it was time for our private sessions. We would start with the District 1 boy and end with the District 12 girl, so that means that I would be fifth in line. I waited a little over an hour when finally they called me.

I had been thinking about how I was going to play this, either impress the sponsors with a high score, or keep the Careers off my back. With my knowledge of the local flora and fauna I'm pretty sure that plenty of the weeds that would be growing out of the cracks in the concrete of the ruined city would have nutritional value, and I could probably catch a few birds and rodents to eat at the same time. I could survive on my own without sponsors, and the junk in the city would provide me with any tools or equipment that I would need to make. A few parts from an old car engine here, some wires from a downed power line there; I could make just about anything. I guess that I should make the Careers not fear me.

I walked into the gymnasium. Some of the Gamemakers seemed to be drinking and indulging themselves in a small feast but they didn't look completely intoxicated or bored yet. I wonder how it is for the District 11 and District 12 tributes during their private sessions. The Gamemakers are all tired out and probably have their attention wandering by that point. No wonder District 11 and 12 never win.

Alright, time to deliberately botch my score. I went over to the sword fighting station and picked up a sword. I requested to spar with a trainer I deliberately lost the sword fight but I made it look like I was trying. I tried to describe the uses of certain plants and then deliberately gave the wrong answers. The Gamemakers were watching me while holding clipboards, frowned in disappointment, shook their heads, and then began scribbling on the paper. I picked up the throwing knives, with my hand-eye-coordination I could hit the bull's-eye every time if I wanted but I deliberately aimed for the outer edge of the outer ring. I tried wrestling, and lost. Eventually my 15 minutes were up and the Gamemakers told me to stop and that I was dismissed.

When I got back to the third floor, Neil of all people spoke to me.

"So, how did it go?" Neil asked.

"That is between me and my mentor." I told him.

I then walked over to Sora.

"I aimed for a low score to hide from everyone else my true abilities." I told her quietly.

Sora patted me on the shoulder.

"Then that should make the Careers not interested in you. But I will still look into sponsors."

I went into the living room and sat down on the couch. I requested to one of the avox servers to bring me some hot tea and I tried to soothe my nerves. My mind was on my sister. I have to do something!? What will President Carson want from me? Why does he hate Victors? My guess is, he hates the Districts for rebelling 35 years ago, and the Victors bring to much honor and glory to the Districts, and he wants the people of the Districts to permanently suffer including the Victors. Maybe he wants the Victors to suffer even more than the rest? From Panem's more recent history in the last four decades, President Carson was not President at the end of the war. The President that year had been a much more reasonable and fair man. In fact, the first few years after the war, the Hunger Games were the worst the Districts suffered, but on a day to day basis the President gave orders that were strictly enforced to the Peacekeepers to leave the people alone as long as they were trying to be good. But then Abraham Carson became President and then the Peacekeepers were given permission to act cruelly for fun. And then as Sora told me, the Victors suffered.

What am I going to do? Will all of this be worth it if President Carson just kills Lori when I win? No, I have to at least try.

Barbie arrived back shortly after that.

"So, how did it go?" Neil asked.

"I did the best I could to show my skills hoping to get a good score to impress the sponsors."

Nelly Electra then walked into the room after hearing what we have both said.

"Well then, let us hope for the best for the both of you, and lunch was over just a little while ago so let's get ready for 'afternoon tea'." Nelly said excitedly.

A selection of refreshing beverages along with desserts were then brought in.

It was shortly after dinner when the television came on and it was time for the training scores.

We all went to the living room where we took our seats on the couches and the television then came on. 24 year old television star Caesar Flickerman then began to read out the training scores.

"Ladies and gentlemen." said Caesar addressing the nation. "It is now time to announce the Training Scores for the Participants of this year's Hunger Games. For the past three days the Gamemakers have performed very careful evaluation of each and every tribute.

"For those viewers who don't know; A tribute's Training Score is based on their ability to fight, their strength, their height, their weight, their ability to survive in difficult conditions, etc. They are graded on a score of 1 through 12. 12 meaning that they are master survivalist and unbeatable fighter. And 0 meaning they can not fight and have no survival skills.

"A reminder for the benefit of the final statistics, a score of 12 is no guarantee that the tribute will win, it is merely an evaluation of how well they did today during their private sessions with the Gamemakers.

"And now let's begin. From District 1, Rubius Morson, with a score of 8.

"From District 1, Aurora Indi, with a score of 8."

The average score for District 1 is usually 8 or 9, so no surprise there.

"From District 2, Buzz Vandermon, with a score of 10.

"From District 2, Xena Forman, with a score of 10."

District 2 tributes usually get 9 or 10. An 11 is rare but not unheard of, but from what I know no one has ever got a 12 before.

Now it was my turn.

"From District 3, Beetee Latier, with a score of 3."

"Beetee, what happened?" said Barbie in surprise. "You should have got a high score easily."

"I just sort of lost my focus in the gym." I lied.

She looked at me quizzically.

"From District 3, Barbie Nettel, with a score of 7." said Caesar.

"Not as bad as most in a regular year." claimed Neil. "I can work with that for sponsors."

"From District 4," continued Caesar, "John Green, with a score of 9.

"From District 4, Annabel Ivy, with a score of 8."

The District 4 tributes usually have a prior alliance with the District 1 and 2 tributes. I guess all the fishing and swimming must make them strong.

"From District 5, Hugo Carlynn, with a score of 5.

"From District 5, Rena Zola, with a score of 4.

"From District 6, Sasha Quinn, with a score of 6.

"From District 6, Holly Prue, with a score of 5.

"From District 7, Richie Rovi, with a score of 8.

"From District 7, Charley Curt, with a score of 5.

"From District 8, Zebulon Woody, with a score of 5.

"From District 8, Sabein Frits, with a score of 3.

"From District 9, Clifford Cristoff, with a score of 7.

"From District 9, Makenzie Zackery, with a score of 9.

"From District 10, Leland Geraint, with a score of 3.

"From District 10, Cleo Ricola, with a score of 5.

"From District 11, Clyde Lennon, with a score of 5.

"From District 11, Moranda Godwin, with a score of 6.

"From District 12, Peter Wolofon, with a score of 8.

"And finally, from District 12, Macy Keen, with a score of 3. And that is the resulting scores of our tributes training efforts. Please tune in for the tributes TV Interviews in the evening the day after tomorrow. Good night everybody!"

**Author's note: It was probably pointless, but I couldn't help myself, decided to give all the tributes names.**

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